Evan's Legacy III - Nick's Hunt
by Vol lady
Summary: While hunting alone in the foothills, Nick runs into Wally Miles, who is doing the same thing.
1. Chapter 1

Evan's Legacy III – Nick's Hunt

Chapter 1

Jarrod kissed his mother good-bye and climbed out of the buggy in front of the railroad station. Reaching in the back for his suitcase and briefcase, he said, "I'm not sure when I'll be seeing you again. These cases could take a while." Then he looked up at Nick on horseback beside the buggy. "Don't forget to send McColl over by the day after tomorrow."

Jarrod was off to try two cases – one civil and one criminal – in an adjoining county seat. The dispute happened on land the ranch routinely used for grazing horses. It was county land but the Barkleys had been using it for years, paying a modest fee for the privilege, until a rancher in the neighboring county protested and sued. The civil suit could have been handled, but some men from the neighboring rancher's spread had begun harassing the Barkley men using the land and some violence broke out. Men from both sides had been arrested for assault. Jarrod was representing two Barkley hands on trial, which would be starting in three days.

The Barkley foreman, Duke McColl, had been in charge of the Barkley people at the time and was there for most of the harassment. Jarrod needed him to testify about the problems, both in the criminal suit against the men who had been harassing them and the civil suit over who would get to use the land. "How long will you be keeping him?" Nick asked.

"I don't know," Jarrod admitted. "There's a chance we can settle the civil case after we find out how the criminal case is going to come out, but if we can't, we'll be going right on into the civil trial."

"But you expect to be home in three to four weeks," Victoria said.

"Three to four weeks," Jarrod confirmed, "and I won't keep McColl any longer than I have to."

"Just don't let the stress get to you too much."

Jarrod understood what his mother was really saying. After struggling with his drinking ever since his wife's murder, he had cut back substantially over the last weeks. It had been an up and down effort. He faltered quite a bit, especially following the incident in town where Jarrod ended up killing five men, but he had reduced his drinking to a level now that was much more like his modest drinking habits before his world caved in last spring. What Victoria worried about was that the pressure of these lawsuits, and the isolation of being alone with the pressure, would make Jarrod start drinking too much again. But he said, "Don't worry, Mother. I'll be fine."

He kissed her again and headed up to the platform with his bags. The train that would take him south was due in from Sacramento at any time, and he could in fact hear it coming. As it pulled up, he watched it slow to a stop and prepared to board – but then he saw her get off.

Olivia. He hadn't seen her in weeks, since she'd gone up to Lodi to be with her sick mother. She was getting off at the next car down. She and Jarrod had both been keeping the true nature of their relationship quiet – no one, not even his family, knew he was keeping an apartment in town – but exchanging hellos was not something that would arouse suspicions. Olivia had been his client once. Jarrod smiled as he approached her.

She saw him and broke into a smile. "Jarrod!" Then she saw his bags. "You're leaving?"

Jarrod shrugged. "Off to Modesto for a few weeks. I have a couple trials coming up there. How is your mother?"

"Still struggling, I'm afraid," Olivia said. "I need to go back up there. I just came to take care of a few things."

Jarrod did not like the look on her face. "Will you be going back up there for good?"

Olivia nodded. "I'm sorry you're leaving. I was hoping to bid you a better good-bye."

Jarrod took the chance and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm sorry too."

The train whistle blew. "You'd better go," Olivia said. "I'll talk to you – some other time."

Jarrod nodded sadly and got on the train. It was moving before he found a place for his bags and a seat. This time, she was gone for good, that was clear, and he was heartbroken. He didn't even get a chance to wave good-bye.

XXXXXX

After leaving Jarrod at the station, Victoria had driven on to the mercantile, where she would be picking up some household items the owner, Jess Tatum, had ordered for her, while Nick took off for the bank. The plan was for Nick to come to the mercantile when he was finished, and they would enjoy lunch together at the Stockton House before heading home. It was very rare for Nick and Victoria to enjoy time together, just the two of them, like this. Nick was always too busy at the ranch, or Victoria was busy with her women's group or the orphanage or church. Their schedules just never seemed to be compatible, but today they were. They took advantage of it.

"Hello, Mrs. Barkley!" Tatum said the moment he saw her. He was finishing up with another customer, a woman Victoria did not know. She remembered a time when she knew everyone in town, but Stockton was growing fast. New people were arriving all the time. "Do you know Mrs. Haverford?"

The woman turned, and Victoria saw a plain but pleasant looking woman about Nick's age who smiled and said, "Hello, Mrs. Barkley."

Victoria offered her hand. "Mrs. Haverford. It's very nice to meet you. Are you new in town?"

"My husband and I arrived a month ago," Mrs. Haverford said. "He's opened a barber shop down on the waterfront."

"Really?" Victoria said. "I'm surprised. Our local watermen never seemed to be that conscious of their haircuts and shaves."

"They never had anyone cater to them before," Mrs. Haverford said. "Sam is doing quite well down there. He says his customers just didn't feel like traipsing all the way up here into town."

"Well, see a need and fill it and you can do quite well around here," Victoria agreed.

Mrs. Haverford picked up her packages, said good-bye, and headed out the door. "She and her husband are very nice people," Tatum said. "Sam is getting his supplies through me, and that's not hurting my feelings any. How are you today, Mrs. Barkley?"

"Well, Nick and I just saw Jarrod off for about a month. He has trials in Modesto."

"That oldest son of yours gets around. How's Nick these days?"

"Oh, he's fine, he's fine. He's taking me to lunch. We don't get to do that very often. Do you have my things ready for me?"

"I do. Is your buggy out front?"

"Right out front."

Tatum retrieved several packages from the back and carried them outside with Victoria leading the way. He piled them into the back of the buggy just as Nick was heading out of the bank a couple blocks down the street. Victoria saw him coming their way.

And then she saw Wally Miles heading her way, out of the saddle shop halfway between her and Nick.

Victoria turned, hoping Miles would not see her, but as he drew close he saw she was there. Unfortunately, he slowed. He stared.

Victoria just nodded and said, "Wally."

Miles looked at Victoria, but said, "Tatum, I need some things from you."

"Come on inside," Tatum said uneasily. Everyone in town knew the bad blood between Wally and the Barkleys, although few of them knew why other than Victoria had killed Evan defending Audra and Jarrod had killed one of the Miles hands in the street, a killing found justified. Very few people knew about the information Jarrod had dug up on Evan. The one thing Wally and the Barkleys agreed on was that they did not want that information to get around.

Miles continued to glare at Victoria as Tatum went back into his store, but then Nick arrived and saw what was happening. Nick walked up beside Miles, saying, "Wally."

Miles did not look at him or respond. He just looked at Victoria, who stared right back.

"Wally, why don't you go on about your business?" Nick said calmly.

"I saw Jarrod leave on the train," Miles said. "There's no injunction requiring me to stay fifty feet away and he won't be getting one."

"Wally, please, leave this all alone," Victoria said. "This continuing animosity won't do any of us any good."

"And I'm still in town," Nick said. "You leave us alone, if you know what's good for you, Wally."

Now Miles looked at Nick, and the look that started out as "make me" melted a bit at the sight of the younger, more fit man. He looked back at Victoria, tipped his hat with more of a sneer than respect, and went into the mercantile.

Victoria sighed in relief.

Nick asked, "Are you all right?"

Victoria nodded. "Wally is difficult, but he's not going to ruin our lunch."

The Stockton House was not far away. Nick smiled and offered his arm.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Nick and Heath were out in the field early the next day. It was late autumn for sure now. The air was more crisp and the temperature more comfortable. They had sold nearly 200 head of cattle to a nearby rancher who would take them west to market, so their herd was now much smaller and younger. They wanted to get them fattened up and ready for the winter, so there was a lot of work to do, but it mostly involved moving them from one grazing area to another for the next couple weeks. Not difficult work, just time consuming.

"I'll tell you what I want to do next week," Nick was musing. "I'm gonna take a day or two and go hunting. I want to bag me some deer and get some venison put up. I got a real taste for venison."

"I won't argue with that," Heath said, "but you might be on your own to go hunting. McColl's got that trial for Jarrod, remember? If you want to go hunting, I oughtta stay here and run things."

Nick hadn't forgotten. McColl would be heading over to Modesto tomorrow and would probably be tied up for another two weeks or so.

"All right," Nick said, "if staying here is all right with you. I'll go hunting next week, you can go sometime the week after."

"That sounds fine to me," Heath said. "I don't mind hanging around here for a while. I'd rather eat Silas's cooking than my own. You gonna take anybody with you?"

"No, I don't think so," Nick said. "I won't mind a little time to just ease up."

"As long as you don't tangle with wolves or cats," Heath said. "You don't have the best history with the wild critters out there."

Nick had been injured by wild animals before, the worst being that wolf Nick feared had given him rabies. Things always seemed to work out, though. "I'll be careful," he said.

Heath didn't like Nick going out there alone, but he understood his brother's need for some solitude and relief from responsibility. Despite Nick's bad luck with wild animals, Heath thought he'd be all right for a day or two – after all, Nick had a lot more hours out there alone without running into trouble with animals, four-legged or two legged, than he had with running into trouble. Nick could take care of himself. "Where you gonna go – in case I need to go find you?"

"Foothills to the east, where we had all that luck last year," Nick said with a snort. "But you won't need to go find me. Trust me."

"I do trust you, Nick," Heath said. "It's those other critters out there I don't trust."

"Well, if you want to worry about something, worry that I won't find a good buck worth bringing home. THAT will put me in a really bad mood when I get back."

"I won't worry about anything, Nick," Heath said. "You just have a good time."

XXXXXXX

Nick was up and at 'em so early on the day he chose to go hunting that he had already eaten and was finishing up his coffee by the time the rest of the family came to the breakfast table. "My goodness, you are eager for that venison, aren't you?" his mother said and headed for the sideboard to fill a plate.

Nick wiped his mouth and got up. This time of year, it was still dark outside. Nick wanted to be as far as the creek to the east, right before the foothills started up, by sunrise. He didn't necessarily want to bag his buck that soon – he wanted a couple days to mosey around – but he wanted to reconnoiter and see where the activity was before he began shooting. Sometimes the planning was more relaxing than the actual bagging of that deer. "Just looking forward to leaving the ranch to Heath for a couple days," Nick said.

Victoria smiled and kissed him as she came to the table. Heath came in at about that time, heard Nick's remark, and decided to put in a little dig. "Haven't you left yet?" he asked.

"I'm on my way now," Nick said, and he kissed Audra as she came into the room and he went out.

"When shall we expect you back?" Victoria called after him.

"Three days, just after sunrise!" Nick called back.

"Do you know where he's going?" Victoria asked Heath as Heath filled his plate.

"Yes, I do," Heath said. "Don't worry. If he's not back on time, it'll be because he didn't get a deer, and he might get stubborn and stay out longer to do it."

"I understand why you men like to hunt, and I do love venison, too," Audra said, "but I'm still skittish about killing things for sport."

Victoria said, "I think Nick has his mind more on his stomach than sport. And you and I have done some hunting in the past, you know."

"I know," Audra said. "I'm just never as happy about it as Nick is."

"I had a friend once from way up in Canada, part French and part Cree," Heath said. "He always said a prayer right before he fired a shot, and another one if he bagged his game. He said he was thanking the game and apologizing for taking its life with the first prayer, and thanking the Lord for a good shot with the second one."

"And then another prayer when he ate the meat," Victoria said. "We're all meat eaters, Audra."

"I know," Audra said, "and I am a soft-hearted woman, I know that too. I'll just leave the sport of hunting to you and Nick and Jarrod, Heath. When you shoot something, say a prayer for me, will you?"

Heath smiled. "Will do."

XXXXXX

Nick was at the creek where he wanted to be when the sun came up, and not far downstream he saw several deer – all of whom suddenly looked up and scattered when they saw him. Nick smiled. He didn't mind. He'd seen what he was expecting to see – a sunrise gathering place where he was likely to see some game even if he didn't see it anywhere else on this trip. He was also happy about what he was not seeing – people.

He really hadn't told anyone, but it had been a summer and early fall that people seemed to have been a particular problem and he had grown tired of dealing with them. Jenny Miles's death that led to more than one altercation with Wally Miles had been the main irritant. Wally had come to the ranch and harassed his mother and sister to start. Then there was a shootout Jarrod had become involved with, when he was forced to kill one of Wally's men. It all was too nasty a reminder to Wally of Victoria having killed his son Evan, to protect Audra. Wally just had never gotten over that. And then there was Jarrod and his drinking problem and his propensity to think he had to do everything his way to protect the family when there was trouble and fight Nick on everything little thing -

Nick shook the irritation out of his mind. He was free of all that for now. Now was just a time for him to relax, ease into the late autumn and winter seasons, let the summer heat and aggravation go. Time was moving on. The silence of winter would calm everything down, and he would have all the venison he wanted.

Nick headed up into the foothills, finding familiar deer trails and checking out how active they were. The trees were at peak color up here, and it was beautiful and smelled fresh. Ground squirrels were running around everywhere. Nuts were falling from the trees and making little plunking sounds on the fallen leaves – and once or twice on his hat. Birds were fussing at him for disturbing them. Now and then Nick caught a glimpse of a deer who took off fast. The deer seemed to know by the change in the weather that the hunters would be coming after them, and they were more skittish than at other times of the year. Autumn was one of his favorite times of year, when everybody and everything scurried to get ready for winter and taking it easy for a few months.

Nick wasn't seeing any other hunters. He didn't see a soul all day, and at the end of the day, he made camp at the same place he and Heath had bedded down last year. The next day for them back then had been really fruitful. They had been hunting seriously then, brought pack animals and had four deer bagged by the end of the second day when they headed home. Nick hadn't brought any pack animals this year. He only wanted one deer, a nice buck with a good rack of antler.

He made camp, made food, made coffee, and as the sun set he didn't even mind the howl of the coyote or even the wolf very far off in the distance. He had gotten over the attack he'd endured from the wolf a few years earlier. When he thought about the whole experience now – Julia and Tommy and everything he had gained in his soul just because that wolf had mauled him – it left him thinking it was probably one of the best things that had ever happened to him, not the worst. Funny, how so many things had turned out that way in his life. Started out dreadfully, dangerously, but then ended up enriching him in ways he could only marvel at afterward. He sipped coffee and smiled, and he let the coyote and the wolf have their say before he curled up and fell happily asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jarrod's criminal trial in Modesto started before Nick went on his hunting trip. It began pretty routinely – pick the jury, opening statements, testimony that wasn't remotely surprising. Jarrod pictured it all being over in one day and his clients being acquitted, but everything went haywire when the last prosecution witness took the stand and accused one of the Barkley hands of shooting him.

Jarrod's client went nuts. "I never even took my gun out! I never shot anybody!"

Jarrod got him seated again and glared hard at the prosecutor. Until this moment, nobody had said anything at all about any gunplay. It had all been fists and kicks. Jarrod felt blindsided, and he blamed the prosecutor. The judge saw the interplay happening between the two lawyers and as soon as the direct of the witness was over, the judge called a recess and left the room. Jarrod was left ready to tear into the prosecutor, but he had to hold himself back, what with the defendants and with witnesses about.

"Conference room," Jarrod snarled under his breath at the younger prosecutor, and he headed straight for the small room just outside the courtroom after warning his clients to stay put.

The prosecutor followed Jarrod into the conference room, and even as he closed the door he said, "Look, this is all a big surprise to me too. That witness never said anything about gunplay until right now."

Jarrod jumped on him anyway. "I'm gonna tear him apart on cross," Jarrod said. "Your whole case is gonna be left swinging in the breeze, and that witness is gonna end up being prosecuted for perjury and obstruction. Does he even have a bullet wound on him?"

"I don't know," the prosecutor said.

"Did a doctor see him?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"You know I'm gonna ask him a long line of questions just like that. Donald, this whole case has fallen apart on you. Every bit of credibility of all your witnesses is threatened. I'm gonna move to dismiss – "

"You would have done that anyway," the prosecutor interrupted.

"But now my argument is ten times stronger!" Jarrod came at him. "And I'm gonna want this guy prosecuted for obstruction at least."

"I'll talk to him," the prosecutor said and walked out.

Jarrod stayed there, getting his temper under control, trying to get rid of the headache that was now clanging away. Witnesses often did fool you by changing their testimony on the stand, but they almost never made it as bad as this. Usually they got religion and recanted things they had made up before taking the oath. This was a first, to make the charges worse, and Jarrod was ready to bet anything that this witness had made everything up on the spot, for reasons he couldn't fathom, and there was no time to explore. He'd just have to knock things down.

Then the prosecutor surprised him again. When the judge returned, the prosecutor asked for a conference at the bench and moved for a continuance. "The witness's testimony about being shot is brand new to me, Your Honor," the prosecutor said. "In fairness, I have to give the defense time to investigate this and talk to their own witnesses."

"Your witness isn't going to recant this surprise testimony?" the judge asked.

"No, Your Honor," the prosecutor said.

"Mr. Barkley?"

Jarrod said, "I think a mistrial is more in order, Your Honor. The defense was given no indication that any gunplay was involved in this, much less that someone had been shot."

"Mr. Barkley is right," the prosecutor said. "This testimony is a complete surprise to me, too, so of course I never said anything to him about it. But a mistrial is an extreme remedy. I'll oppose such a motion but will move for a continuance."

The judge chewed on it for a moment. Jarrod could see the wheels turning. No matter what he did in this awkward situation, the judge could see himself being unhappy about it. "I don't want to be anything less than fair to the defendants here," he ended up saying. "Mr. Barkley, I'll grant a motion for mistrial but I'm rescheduling this trial for next Tuesday. We'll start all over again and Mr. Charles – " He leveled a gaze at the prosecutor. "You'd better straighten your witness out. I don't want any more complete surprises."

So, on the morning after Nick's hunting trip began, a new criminal trial started in Modesto – and immediately stopped. As soon as they were in the courtroom together, the prosecutor told Jarrod he was dropping the charges. Surprised, irritated, but pleased, Jarrod asked, "Why?"

The prosecutor sighed. "Let's just say my witnesses are not looking as reliable as I'd like."

Jarrod looked around. The State's witnesses were not even in the room. Jarrod sighed. "My clients have been unjustly accused and put on trial by witnesses who were clearly lying. I checked, and I found no one else who saw any gunplay and no evidence your witness was ever shot. I want somebody to answer for this."

"And my man will," the prosecutor said. "He's a defendant in his own case in this, if you remember. But we've cut a deal. He's going to plead guilty and do some time."

Jarrod felt a bit better, even though he wished the man would have a trial. But as long as he did some time for this, Jarrod was satisfied. "So we can cut my boys loose today?"

"As soon as the judge grants the dismissal."

Which the judge did, and less than half an hour later, Jarrod was sending his clients back to Stockton, free men. McColl had to stay for the civil trial, but by afternoon, even that was settled without a further court fight. The adjoining rancher, realizing his men were not going to be sympathetic witnesses after this debacle here, caved in on his position. The civil case was settled, the paperwork drawn up and the court advised the next day, and Jarrod and McColl rode home on the train.

"What do they call that? A tempest in a teapot?" McColl asked as the train pulled out of Modesto.

"Welcome to my world," Jarrod said. "They'll be a bit surprised to see me at home."

"Nick went hunting, I think," McColl said. "At least he was talking about it."

"Too bad he didn't wait a few days," Jarrod said. "I'd have gone with him."

"I think his deal with Heath was that Heath would go next week. You can go with him."

Jarrod heaved a big sigh. "I'll need it."

XXXXXXXX

The day Jarrod was traveling home was supposed to be the last full day of Nick's hunting trip, before he headed home the following morning. It had been good in one way – the solitude, the lack of responsibility were both good for his soul, but the hunting was irritating, because there wasn't any. On his second day out, up in the hills, he didn't see one deer. Not one. It was as if they knew he was there and were successfully hiding from him. He headed back down toward the creek and camped near there the second night, planning to see more deer in the morning just as he had on the morning he first came out. He planned to bag something and head home a day early, to be there long before dark, keeping his promise so Heath wouldn't be coming after him.

He slept well, and he got up early to catch the sunrise and the animals that would come to the creek. He took a position near where he had seen the deer before, hiding himself, waiting as the light increased. He saw movement before he could really see what was moving, but as sunrise grew closer, he could see the deer moving at the edge of the creek. Lots of them.

He looked carefully for a buck. He could see does and yearlings, but it took some to spot a buck, and then he had to wait for the one buck he saw to separate from the other deer. It was a fine six-pointer. He knew he'd get only one shot, that all the deer would scatter when he fired. If he didn't hit the buck now, it would be gone.

He fired. He missed.

The deer ran like crazy, away from the creek and back into the trees. Nick grumbled and cursed and sat down in the dirt with his back against the rock he'd been hiding behind. He'd have to wait, maybe hours. They probably would come back, just not soon. He would have to be still and hope they would return.

He actually started to fall asleep again. Bits of dreams flitted through his brain – Heath bringing him a beer at Harry's, that saloon girl who always fawned over him there, a deer snuffling in his ear - that one woke him up, but there was no deer there. Just his imagination working on him.

Nick yawned and thought about what might be waiting for him at home. Probably nothing but the regular boring routine of tending herd, doing the books because Jarrod was away and not there to do them. He hated it when Jarrod was away and not there to do them. Nick hated the books. Somehow, his thoughts suddenly turned to his mother and his sister and, of all people, Wally Miles. Nick began to wonder if Miles was bothering them again – Wally had tried it the day they dropped Jarrod off at the train. Jarrod – Jarrod and his restraining orders. Nick wished he could just punch Wally Miles out, just once. Nick wished Jarrod would let him do his job in protecting the family. That was one thing about Jarrod he was glad to have gone when Jarrod was gone – his bossiness about the family, about protecting the family, about being the supreme decision maker in the family.

Nick jolted awake again. Why was his half sleepy brain suddenly thinking of Wally Miles? He realized why. He could smell him.

Nick got up to a squat and looked around carefully. He could smell Wally Miles! Wally naturally smelled like old leather, old unpleasant leather, unless he wore a good aftershave to cover it up, which he wouldn't do if he was out here hunting. Nick could smell him now! He did smell a little like an old, sick deer, but Nick had spent enough time with Wally when he was younger to know it for Wally's scent, not a deer's. What was Wally Miles doing out here now, for God's sake?! And where the heck was he?!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Nick could hear him moving through the woods, because Wally Miles was a big man and rode a big Morgan that never went anywhere quietly. In a moment, man and horse came through the trees and stopped at the edge of the creek, about where the deer had been. Wally dismounted, and his horse drank while he refilled his canteen. Wally looked like he was prepared for hunting, his rifle in its sheath, saddlebags stuffed with what was probably food. It looked like he planned to be out here for a while.

Nick sighed quietly and sank behind the rock. Wally Miles. Him and Wally Miles out here in the middle of nowhere. His sweet solitude suddenly broken by the last man he wanted to see. Nick wondered what to do. He could stay hidden and let Wally go on his way without ever knowing Nick was there. That was Nick's initial thought and preference. But then Nick's horse, Coco, that he'd left about a hundred feet back in the trees suddenly whinnied, and Wally stood up straight, looking, listening, looking very alert and alarmed.

Nick gave another sigh but did not rise up from behind the rock as he yelled, "It's Nick Barkley, Wally! I'm gonna get up!" He stood up very slowly, holding his rifle over his head, and he faced Wally who was only about twenty feet away. "I've been out hunting," Nick said quietly. "Deer come through here to drink."

Miles stood staring, but he did not go for either his sidearm or his rifle. "I know," he said. "I'm hunting too. Just got too late a start to get here for them this morning."

So far, so good. Wally was not sounding friendly, but he was not angry either. "I missed the only good shot I had," Nick said, lowering his arms and coming out from behind the rock. He decided to be the peacemaker today. "How've you been, Wally?" he asked as he came about ten feet closer and stopped.

"The same," Wally said.

"I was just planning to hang around here until the deer came back, then try to get the buck and head home," Nick said. "I've been out here for days. Can't say I've had much luck. Where are you headed?"

"Up into the hills, if I couldn't get anything here this morning," Miles said.

Nick shook his head. "Not much up there yesterday. I didn't see a thing."

"Well, maybe I'll have better luck."

So far the conversation had been all right, sort of the conversation two strangers in a bar would have, feeling each other out. Now it hit that awkward spot – what to say next? Anything? Or just go their separate ways?

Wally's horse had finished drinking and lifted its head. It looked at Wally, then at Nick, then back at Miles. Miles said, "I guess I'll move on, maybe cut more to the south before I head up into high ground."

"Might not be a bad idea," Nick said. "I promised to be home by tomorrow morning, buck or no buck. I'll wait around here for a while to see if he comes back and head home first thing tomorrow, buck or no buck."

Miles nodded, hung his canteen back onto the horn of his saddle, and mounted up again. Without another word, he started away.

Nick breathed easier. At least they hadn't started yelling at each other or taken any shots. Wally moved back off into the trees, and Nick started back toward his rock.

That was when Nick heard a huge _crack! _He froze, listening. It was just one big crack, followed by the rush of something falling through the trees not too far off, and then the scream of a horse. Then silence, eerie silence. Holding tight to his rifle, Nick took off running through the woods, trying to find where the sound had come from, but he couldn't find it. He listened for the sound of Miles's horse moving through the woods, but he couldn't hear that either. Then he heard the groan.

It was human. It wasn't far off, but on the other side of some very dense undergrowth that hadn't been disturbed. There was a deer trail that curved around the undergrowth. Nick followed it, fast, then stopped and listened again. Again, the human groan, and then a horse crying.

Nick ran further on and found them, Miles and his horse both on the ground, Miles crawling but the horse trapped under a giant fallen tree branch. Nick could see it was from one of those big redwoods they had around here. The crack he heard must have been the branch breaking from the tree, and it came down right on Wally Miles.

Nick put his rifle down and ran to Miles's side. Wally wasn't trapped now, but he was injured, crawling, trying to get out from under the side branches and the material from other trees that had come down with the redwood branch. Nick got down beside him, putting a hand on his back to calm him. The man was panting heavily, unable to get up.

"Take it easy, Wally," Nick said. "How bad are you hurt?"

"My back," Miles said through clenched teeth.

His horse whinnied pitifully, frighteningly.

"My horse – " Miles said.

The horse wasn't even kicking, just crying. Nick went to it to check on it. What he saw sent him straight into grief. There was blood all over the horse's midsection. The fallen branch had landed right over him. He wasn't kicking because the branch had dug into him and he was rapidly weakening.

Nick went back to Miles. "Wally, I'm sorry, he's hurt really bad. I'm gonna have to put him down."

Miles groaned, but said, "Of course. Do it fast."

Nick picked up his rifle, went to the horse and immediately shot it in the head. The horse's crying stopped. The forest became eerily silent. Not even a bird chirped.

Nick put his rifle down and went back to Miles again. "Can you get up?" he asked.

Miles said, "I might be able to crawl a bit."

"Let's get you out of these branches so I can have a look at you," Nick said.

It took a lot to move Wally Miles. He really didn't seem to have much strength to move his big, bulky form very far, and Nick found it almost impossible to pull him, but somehow they got him out of the fallen debris and to a spot along the deer trail that was at least a little clear, even if it was maybe a foot wide if it was lucky. Wally collapsed face down in a heap.

Nick said, "Wally, I'm gonna have to check you for injuries. Do you hurt anywhere?"

"My back," Miles said. "My lower back."

"Can you feel your legs?" Nick asked.

"Yes, I can," Wally said.

That was good. At least it didn't sound like Miles's back was broken. Nick said, "I'm gonna check your back out."

Gently, Nick lifted Miles's coat out of the way and touched his back softly. There was no blood. Miles's clothing had cushioned the blow somewhat, and Nick didn't see any blood anywhere on the man. That was good. But Miles grunted and moaned when Nick put pressure on his back.

"Do you hurt anywhere else?" Nick asked.

"Left arm," Miles said.

Nick carefully checked out his arm, too, though he had to do it through the jacket. Again, it looked like Wally's clothing had cushioned the blow. "It doesn't seem to be broken," Nick said. "Your back neither." Nick sat down in the dirt beside the big man. "Let's give this a few minutes and see if you feel any better."

"I got a bad back," Miles said. "I think I wrenched it when my horse went down."

"I got a bad back myself," Nick said. "I know how that can smart."

"Damned lousy luck to be there just when a tree branch came down."

"They come down all the time. I lost a man for two months once because a tree fell on him and broke a leg."

Miles was breathing heavy, but it was easing off. "I don't know how we're gonna get me out of here."

"We're not gonna do anything for a while," Nick said. "Let's see if you feel any better after a while. I'm sorry about your horse."

"She was a good horse. You say they're expecting you at home tonight?"

"Tomorrow morning. At worse, we'll be here until then when Heath will come looking for me. He doesn't trust me out here alone with the critters. I've had some back luck with the wild things."

"I heard about that time you got bitten by the wolf."

Nick flashed back in his mind. He remembered how bad that hurt, how bad it was to have to take Heath setting fire to wound, how scared he was that the wolf was rabid and he was going to go howling mad and die and – "It was a bad time," he said, and then he tried to remember Julia and Tommy and bask some in what had turned out to be a wonderful time that he treasured. But he couldn't share any of that with Miles.

"Better keep that rifle handy, then," Miles said, but the words started to slur.

Nick took a quick look at Wally's head. "Stay with me, Wally. You didn't get hit in the head, did you?"

"I don't think so," Miles said. "I think it's just my back and my arm. Nick, maybe you better go for help."

"Not just yet," Nick said. Home and help were still more than an hour away. Nick didn't like leaving Wally alone, at least not before assuring himself that they were just looking at muscle strains and bruises. "Let's just see how you do in the next few minutes. I'm not interested in leaving you out here to the critters by yourself. Your luck with them might be worse than mine."

"Nobody's is worse than yours, Nick," Miles said, and he would have laughed but it hurt his back too much.

Nick smiled. "I didn't know my reputation had spread that far."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Heat. The word popped into Nick's mind as he watched Miles adjust himself painfully, trying to get comfortable and failing. Heat, that was what the doctor had told him to apply when his back was acting up. If Wally didn't have a broken spine – and since he could feel his legs, it looked likely he did not – then he had injured muscles and heat would be a good idea.

"Wally, I'm gonna build a fire," Nick said. "I'm gonna get your bedroll off your horse and try to warm up the blanket to put on your back."

"All right," Miles said.

"It'll take a while," Nick said, and the suddenly something else popped into his mind. Coco. He had another idea. "First I'm gonna send Coco home for help."

"Your horse? You send your horse and we'll be stuck up here without one!" Wally protested.

"With your back like that, we're stuck here anyway."

"Why don't you just go ride for help?"

"No," Nick said. "With your horse dead over there, the scavengers are gonna come – fox, maybe even coyote or a really hungry wolf. I'm not leaving you alone."

"Nick – "

"No, no, this'll work. Brother Jarrod always told me to pack a pencil and some paper in case I needed to leave a note while I was out here. I'm gonna send a note with Coco. He'll go home and carry a note for help and with any luck, we'll be out of here by nightfall."

Miles had to admit, it sounded like a good idea. "Are you sure Coco will go home?"

"He'll go home. He might not hurry on about it, but he'll go home. You rest. Let me go take care of that and build a fire and I'll be right back. Try to stay awake."

"I'd rather not."

"I don't want to bet you don't have a concussion."

"I didn't hit my head. I don't have a concussion."

"Try to stay awake anyway."

Nick got up and went to Miles's dead horse. It took some doing to get the bedroll off, what with the dead horse lying on part of it, but Nick finally managed to get it away. He couldn't get the saddlebags off but he could get to one of them and checked to see what was in it. Food mainly. That was something.

He really wanted to get the saddle off and get to the rifle in the scabbard, but he couldn't budge it. The rifle was firmly under the heavy dead horse.

Nick went back to Miles and said, "I have the blanket. I'm gonna go send Coco off now and start a fire back a ways so we don't breathe smoke. You yell if you need me."

"All right," Wally said, but he voice was strained.

"Is the pain worse?" Nick asked.

"Yeah," Wally said.

"I'll be back soon."

Nick hurried back to where he had left Coco in a small clearing. He quickly dropped the blanket over a rock, pulled the saddlebags and bedroll off Coco's back and fished the pencil and paper out of the one side. He wrote a note directing Heath to where he was and saying that Wally Miles was here and injured. He said they needed a wagon but they wouldn't be able to bring it to the spot, so they would also need a backboard and some extra men to help carry Wally. Wally was a big, overweight man. It would take some doing to get him on the backboard and out of these woods.

Nick rolled the note up and tied it to the horn of the saddle, and then for extra security tucked the end of it under the saddle, leaving it partially out. "All right, Coco, old friend, go home," he said and gave the horse a swat on the rump.

Startled, Coco took four quick steps and stopped again, then looked back over his shoulder, confused.

Nick went up to him again and gave him a harder swat. "Go home, you old sot! And don't dally about it!"

Coco took off this time, fast at first, then slowing to a trot that he kept up until he disappeared into the woods. Nick hoped like crazy that Coco really would go home. He was pretty sure he would, because like Nick himself, Coco always seemed to have a hankering for home when he was hungry, and grass alone out here wouldn't keep him satisfied.

"Don't dally," Nick said quietly one more time. Then he picked up the blanket and carried it and his saddlebags and bedroll back to the edge of the creek where there was a small clearing, to build the fire.

XXXXXXX

Coco dallied. What might have taken a little over an hour if Nick had ridden him took more like four, because Coco walked most of the time, and not in any kind of a straight line home. He stopped to graze or take water, or just wandered in the wrong direction for a bit. As a result, he was just beginning to smell his home stable and pick up speed when Jarrod and McColl were riding in from Stockton, having gotten off the train and headed home at a decent clip. They spotted Coco coming from the east, and they saw he was riderless.

They hurried to him, and McColl caught him by the reins. Jarrod spotted the note under the saddle right away. He quickly dismounted and got the note untied.

"Nick's in trouble," McColl said.

Jarrod shook his head. "Nick's all right, but Wally Miles is in trouble." He gave the note to McColl. "You need to go get Heath and a wagon and a backboard and a few men. And then get up to Devil Creek – do you know where it is we always hunt?"

"Vaguely."

"Heath will know. Let him lead the way. Give me your sidearm, Mac."

Jarrod was unarmed, so McColl handed him his pistol. "Where are you going?"

Jarrod tucked the pistol under his belt – not the safest thing to do with it but the handiest. "To go see if I can find Nick and help them out. Get up there as soon as you can."

They split up then, McColl leading Coco to the ranch, Jarrod heading east. He knew exactly where Nick was. He knew he could get there in an hour.

XXXXXXXX

Nick had already raised Wally's jacket, leaving the shirt down, and put a warmed blanket to his back a few times. This time he dampened the blanket a bit and when he put it on Wally's back, Wally nearly jumped up. "Damn, Nick, that's hot!"

Nick took it off quickly. "Yeah, you're right, it is a bit." He waved the blanket in the air a little and then put it back. "That better?"

"Yeah," Wally said, sighing. "But I wish my back was."

"Don't worry," Nick said. "We'll get you home and to bed and your people can worry with you before the sun goes down."

"You think Coco went home?"

"Yeah, I think so. At least he's been known to do it before."

They heard a funny yipping sound off in the brush and were alert right away. Nick grabbed his rifle and cocked it. "Fox," Miles said.

"Sounds like it," Nick said. "Coming for your horse. He won't come for you."

Nick saw the mangy, sick looking thing coming out of the brush, and he immediately tensed up. Seeing anything that might have been rabid sent cramps of bad memories and fear rushing through Nick, ever since that rabid wolf got him, but this animal wasn't rabid. At least it had no foam at the mouth.

Wally saw it too. He didn't realize how tense Nick had become or why. He just said, "Don't waste a bullet. We might need them come dark."

Nick got up to go for the fox, but the fox dashed back into the brush. Fox were skittish animals, and they were solitary. They didn't pack up like coyotes or wolves would. Nick didn't worry much that there were any more around.

But he did worry about wolves. He would worry about wolves forever.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Wally Miles began to shiver, noticeably. Nick got down beside him and saw a man in trouble. "Wally?"

"Cold," Wally said.

Nick took the warm blanket that had been on Wally's back and spread it over him now. It wasn't warm anymore. Nick fetched his own blanket that he had taken off Coco and spread it over him, too. Then he went back to the dead horse and tried one more time to at least get to the rifle in the scabbard under it. No luck. Nick just couldn't even roll the horse's body enough by himself.

They were in the shadow of a hill here, so Nick couldn't even really tell how late it was getting because he couldn't see the sun and he hadn't brought a watch. He wondered if Coco had made it home yet. He wondered how long he and Miles had been out here like this. He went back over to Miles and checked on him. "You awake, Wally?" he asked.

"Yeah," Miles said, but his voice was getting weaker.

Then it came – the low, eerie "oooooohhhh….." off in the distance. At least it sounded like the distance for now. Not fox, not coyote. That sound was wolf. Nick shivered. Wolf. Calling his buddies.

Nick quickly made sure his sidearm was fully loaded, then fetched the ammunition out of his saddlebag and made sure his rifle was fully loaded too. "Wally, we might be getting visitors," he said.

"I heard it too," Miles said.

"Can I get to your sidearm?"

"It's under me," Miles said. "I can't move my arm to get it."

"Sorry to be getting so familiar," Nick said and slipped his hand under Miles's hip to get to that side arm. He had to be really careful not to set it off, but he did finally manage to pull it out. He checked it right away and found it fully loaded.

Nick put the pistol into Wally's hand that was uninjured. Wally said, "I hope I don't need this."

"Me, too," Nick said. "But in case we both need to be firing, you hang onto it."

"Do you think your horse made it home yet?" Miles asked.

"I don't know," Nick said. "Maybe. If he did, we might be getting some help fairly soon, so don't you go giving up yet. We're gonna get out of this."

Suddenly, they both heard shots, back off toward the creek. Nick scrambled to take a position, to be ready to defend but he didn't know what he'd be defending them from. Wolves didn't carry firearms, that was for sure. Somebody human was out there.

He heard it only moments later. "Nick! Nick! It's Jarrod! Where are you?!"

"Jarrod?" Nick said to himself, standing up. "Here, Jarrod! Back here!"

Jarrod came riding in, stopping about ten feet away and dismounting.

"What the heck are you doing here?" Nick asked as his brother came closer.

"We wrapped up a lot faster than I expected," Jarrod said, looking down at Miles lying there with a gun in his hand. "McColl and I found Coco heading home. We got your note and he oughtta be here with help in half an hour or so."

"What were you shooting at?"

Jarrod looked at him. "Wolves. Five of them, congregating. You were about to have visitors." Jarrod was well aware that Nick was terrified of wolves, and he knew why. "They scattered. I don't know if they're gone for good. It might take all three of us to keep them away if they move in. Wally, how are you?"

Miles said, weakly, "I can shoot at least."

Jarrod looked over at the fallen horse. "Is there a rifle under the horse?"

"Yeah, but I haven't been able to budge the saddle," Nick said.

"Let's try again," Jarrod said.

The two of them went over to the body of Miles's horse and tried again to budge the saddle off. It wouldn't move. Then they tried pushing on the horse enough to get part of it up so they could get to the scabbard. They pushed. Jarrod pushed his hand under the horse's flank. It took some grunting and some doing, but he came out with the rifle.

"Let's get that thing loaded," Nick said.

They carried it back to where Nick had his things piled up, and Jarrod set about making sure Wally's rifle was in good shape and loaded. As he did, he took stock of his brother's demeanor. Nick was looking around, uneasily. "Take it easy, Nick," Jarrod said. "You don't want to go shooting one of our rescuers thinking it's a wolf."

"I know," Nick said. "But you know how I feel about wolves."

Wally Miles spoke up from his spot flat on the ground. "Don't worry, Nick. I'll protect you."

Miles was smiling. Jarrod started laughing, and Nick ultimately did too. They all relaxed a bit. "How did you two get into this mess, anyway?" Jarrod asked.

"That tree came down on top of Wally and his horse," Nick said, pointing to the tree still lying across the fallen horse. "Wally wrenched his back in the fall, but I got him out from under the branches. He just can't move."

"Don't worry, Wally," Jarrod said. "Help is coming and we'll have you home by dark."

Miles sighed. It was clear he wanted to say something but didn't know how to do it. "Thanks," he just said.

They waited. Nick asked how things went at his trial and Jarrod explained a bit without getting very technical. Jarrod did his best to keep the idle talk going, but then they heard that eerie howl one more time.

"Farther away," Jarrod noted. "They know we're not gonna be easy pickings."

"No, it's something else," Nick said and stood up and looked.

And there they came, Heath and McColl and about four other men, on foot and carrying a backboard. Jarrod stood up, saying, "Ah, you found us!"

Nick went over to Miles and bent beside him. "Help is here, Wally. Looks like we won't have to shoot any wolves."

It took some doing, getting Wally safely onto the backboard without hurting him too badly. Nick took his sidearm from him and tucked it under his belt. A couple of the men with McColl and Heath picked up all the personal belongings lying around, except for the blankets they kept covering Miles, and they started back down the deer path. Jarrod's horse was the only one there, and Jarrod took hold of his lead and took him down the path with them.

"We had to leave the wagon the other side of the creek, at the edge of the road," Heath said. "We couldn't get it any further."

Wally was a very heavy man. The men traded off carrying him twice before they reached the wagon. Wally moaned and grunted all the way, but he never did pass out, and once they got him in the wagon he relaxed more. Heath had driven the wagon in. Nick climbed up in the seat beside him, saying, "We'll take Wally to his place. It's a little closer anyway."

The other men were mounted on horseback. "Mac, send somebody for the doctor," Jarrod said.

McColl knew who had the fastest horse and he told that man to head out. The man took off, and they all started back down the road toward the Miles ranch.

Nick started thinking about what had happened today. It wasn't just that Wally had been injured and Nick had helped him. Something more than that had happened. The two men had spent a lot of time together, talking about things but not talking about the bitterness between Wally and the Barkleys, and that was good. Even when Jarrod came along, Miles didn't act resentful toward him. Maybe it was just because he was hurt, but maybe it was more. Maybe Wally was really beginning to ease up on his attitude. Nick had no idea if Wally was going to turn angry again once this was all over, but he hoped. He hoped what had happened today was a new beginning. He knew his mother especially would treasure it if it was. Nick hoped, a lot.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It was late afternoon a week later that the entire Barkley family – Victoria and Audra in the buggy, the men on horseback – rode up to Wally Miles's front door. No Barkley had been here since Victoria and Heath had come, trying to make peace with Wally, and been rebuffed. No one ever thought this day would come, when Wally would actually invite them back, but he had.

Wally appeared at the front door, using a cane but otherwise on his feet, his back much improved. The Barkley men helped their mother and sister out of the buggy, and Nick and Heath escorted them up the stairs to the front porch, Jarrod bringing up the rear. Victoria was the first to reach Wally, and she offered her hand and a smile. "Wally, it's so good to see you up and around."

"Almost good as new, Victoria," Miles said and invited everyone in.

He took them into the parlor, where he made sure Victoria and Audra were comfortable before he asked if anyone wanted a drink. Victoria and Audra opted for sherry, Nick and Heath for whiskey. Jarrod said, "Thank you, no, Wally. I'll pass and save it for dinner."

"Got one foot on the wagon?" Wally asked as he handed sherry to Victoria and Audra.

Jarrod laughed a little. "That's as good a way of putting it as I've heard."

"Can I interest you in some mineral water?"

"That would be fine," Jarrod said.

"You've healed up pretty quickly, Wally," Nick said. "I guess lying in the dirt all day didn't set you back much."

"Not at all," Wally said and handed drinks to Nick and Heath before pouring some mineral water for Jarrod. "I'm just glad it didn't rain at the time. And I'm sorry I kept you from getting your buck."

"Well, with McColl back, I'm going out with Jarrod and Heath again tomorrow," Nick said.

Miles handed Jarrod's drink to him, then picked up his own drink from the refreshment table and lifted his glass. "Here's to a better trip than you had last week."

"I don't know," Heath said. "I think Nick had a jim dandy trip last week."

"I agree," Victoria said. "We're all here together again."

"And that beats a buck anytime," Nick said.

Victoria and Wally locked gazes, at least until Miles let his gaze fall. "I've been a stubborn fool, and I've invited you all here because I know it. I should never have let the animosity between us go on as long as it has. Jenny – " His voice closed. "Jenny always kept telling me I needed to forgive and go on, and I let her slip away without taking her advice. It took Nick and Jarrod and Heath rescuing me up by Devil Creek for me to see that she was right, that you were all always my friends, despite – " His voice closed again. "Despite Evan."

"Evan was ill, Wally," Jarrod said. "That's all. Just ill."

"No, more than ill," Miles said. "Hopelessly ill, and I knew it but couldn't deal with it. I'm dealing with it now. I am deeply, deeply sorry for what Evan did to you – Victoria, Audra – and deeply, deeply sorry for the way I've treated you, Jarrod, and the things I've said over the past couple years. I've been a pure fool. I apologize with all my heart."

Victoria got up, came to Miles and kissed him on the cheek. "Wally, you've always meant the world to me. Jenny is probably very happy right now."

Miles smiled. "I know she is." He took a deep breath. "Do you remember, Victoria, the night Jarrod was born?"

Wally hadn't said anything about Jarrod's birth lately, except that he regretted it, but now, he looked Jarrod's way with a bit of pride in his eyes. Jarrod gave a bit of a self-conscious smile back.

"How could I forget?" Victoria asked.

"You were born in the library back there, Jarrod," Miles said and pointed to a room in the back.

"Born in a library. Well, that figures," Heath said.

"Oh, it was our bedroom then – we hadn't added on the new bedrooms yet," Miles said. "You came into this world screaming your lungs out, as I recall."

"But you quieted down so fast it startled me," Victoria said. "Wally took you in his arms while Jenny took care of me, and something about the way he walked you around the room made you settle right in."

"Maybe I was seeing the books yet to come," Jarrod said.

"No," Victoria said. "It just didn't take you long to realize you were in the comfort of family, and you were going to like being alive."

Jarrod wandered to the door to the library and looked in. It was a terribly intimate feeling, to see the exact place where you were born, to see it in the company of family and people who were there at the time. He had never really spent any time looking at the room he was born in before. He didn't even know until a couple years ago that he had been born at the Miles ranch. He really hadn't spent much time in the Miles house at all through the years, but now he was glad he could see it. He turned and came back, saying, "Whatever it was, I thank you, Wally, for taking care of Mother and me that night. And I thank you for having us back today."

Wally raised his glass again. "You're welcome, Jarrod," he said, "and I'd like to raise a toast to you, and Heath, and especially to you, Nick. You saved my bacon, Nick Barkley, and you made me come to the senses I lost two years ago. You more than put yourself out for me, when I've been nothing but a – "

"Nope, stop right there," Nick said. "That's all over. I'm glad I was able to help you. I'm glad you're back on your feet. And if you're gonna thank anybody, thank the Good Lord I was where I was when that tree fell on you."

It wasn't lost on anyone there - particularly Wally and Jarrod who had heard the sounds while waiting for help in the woods - that Nick had helped Wally out there, all day long, despite having to face his biggest fear in the world - wolves. Neither Wally nor Nick had to acknowledge that out loud. They both knew the significance. The both knew what that had meant to this gathering here, this healing, this reuniting of friends.

"Funny, isn't it?" Wally said. "Of all the times that tree could have come down, it came down then – when we needed it to."

Nick raised his glass. "Here's to the tree, then."

"To the tree," everyone repeated and drank, and laughed.

They spent the evening in happy company, sharing a wonderful dinner, a glass of brandy and happy stories before the Barkleys left the house to go home. It was dark by then and Wally was not comfortable coming down off the porch, so Victoria stopped there, Nick beside her, and she kissed Wally good-bye on the cheek. "You don't know how happy I am, Wally," she said. "I don't have words."

"You don't need them, Victoria," Miles said. "I'm that happy, too."

"Good night, Wally," Nick said and shook his hand.

"Good night," Wally said to Nick, and then called it out to Jarrod, Heath and Audra down in the yard. "See you soon!" he added.

"See you soon," Victoria agreed, and then she and Nick went down to the yard.

As he mounted up, Nick caught Jarrod shaking his head with a slight grin. "What?" Nick asked.

"Got to hand it to you, Brother Nick," Jarrod said. "You did a much better job of taking care of the family with Wally than I ever did."

"Ah, you helped," Nick said. "I was just in the right place at the right time."

"No, no, credit where credit is due," Jarrod said. "And you did it without punching him in the mouth."

"That was your fine influence, Big Brother," Nick said with a laugh.

"If you two are finished complimenting each other," Heath said, "the family you're taking care of is getting away from you. Mother and Audra are getting ahead of us and we'd better catch up."

Victoria and Audra in the buggy were nearly out the gate. The Barkley men kicked their horses into gear and were off after them, while on the porch, Wally watched, and smiled, and felt better about life than he had in a long time. Jenny whispered in his ear, and he told her he loved her, and he went back into the house.

The End


End file.
